


Who Wants You to Love It Too

by AstroGirl



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroGirl/pseuds/AstroGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After "Hell Bent," the Doctor has some questions for Missy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Wants You to Love It Too

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Trope Bingo, for the "amnesia" trope. Contains spoilers for "Hell Bent." May contain ambiguous hints of Twelve/Missy. (Pretty much like the canon, really.)

He tracks her down on the planet Balfrex. It's an obscure, unremarkable place in this time period, but, assuming the timelines are allowed to develop naturally, in a century or two its inhabitants will discover that their world is one of the few, rare sources for the crystals that power the Graverian Empire's warp-ships, and it will become one of the richest, most influential planets in this sector. No doubt that's what's attracted her interest.

He is escorted into her throne room by a couple of her soldiers, although he supposes _they_ think they've captured him and brought him to their leader. And there she sits, in a room with marble floors and multicolored velvet wall-hangings, on a throne carved with grandiose titles in Gallifreyan. Didn't she used to have better taste than this? On second thought, maybe she didn't.

Missy lounges upon the throne, one leg draped casually over an armrest. She is eating an ice cream cone. As she catches sight of him, her mouth shapes itself into an exaggerated O of surprised delight, even though he's fairly certain her people warned her he was coming. She tosses the remains of the ice cream over her shoulder, and a cowering servant darts across the room to clean it up. 

"Doctor!" She swings her leg down and sits up straight on the throne, her bearing suitably regal now. With a wave, she dismisses the soldiers and the servant, who scuttle gratefully from the room. " _There_ you are! It's been so long." She makes a pouting face. "Do you know how much havoc I've wreaked since the last time we saw each other? I can't believe it's _this_ miserable planet you finally showed up for. Honestly, I was thinking of just setting it on fire and leaving, it's so boring."

The Doctor straightens himself, tells himself not to get distracted now. Later, yes. He's going to have to do something about whatever she's up to later. But first... "I came here to talk," he says.

She blinks at him. "You what? _Talk?_ Doctor, we don't _talk_. You try to kill me, I try to kill you, we exchange delightful taunting barbs. But since when do we _talk?_ "

He can remember a time when they did, of course, and he damned well knows she can, too. But those aren't the memories he cares about just now. "It's about Clara."

Missy rolls her eyes. "Oh, of course. It's always about your tedious humans. Really, Doctor, it's just sad when two old friends grow apart like this, and find they no longer have any interest in each other's hobbies."

"Is that what you call this?" The Doctor flicks his fingers to indicate the throne room around them. "A hobby?" He doesn't bother to keep the contempt out of his voice. 

Missy shrugs. "A girl's got to have something to pass the time."

The Doctor stares at her, and says nothing.

"Oh, fine." She sighs. "What about your precious pet human, then?"

"You..." The Doctor suddenly realizes he hasn't exactly thought through how he's going to ask this, but he forges on bravely, anyway. That's what he does, isn't it? "You introduced us. I think. Or... You brought us together, somehow." He tries once more to find the source of this memory, but, as it always does, it fades away into the misty gray hole in his mind. "I think I remember that."

Missy sits forward, an eager, hungry expression on her face. "So, it's true, then. You really did erase your own memories. Oh, I wish I could have been there to see it! Tell me all about it."

"I can't!" It comes out louder and angrier than he means it to. "I don't _remember._ "

"Mmm, yes, that is often the problem with amnesia." 

"Wait," he says, as a thought belatedly occurs to him. "How did you know about that?"

"I have my sources. I hear things." She grins and leans back again. "Never mind that. So, you've lost your memories and your pet." She waves a hand at him. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to tell me about her." He looks into her eyes. They've gone closed-off and calculating. "Please."

Her expression instantly softens, but he can't tell whether that's mocking or genuine. "Well, since you ask so prettily... Although there's really not much to tell, is there? One human is so much like another."

"Missy." He says her name as if it's another "please." "Tell me. What was she like?"

"Oh, fine. Let's see..." Missy lays a finger coyly against her chin and pretends to think. "What can I say about Clara Oswald? 'Bossy' might be a good word. Bit of a control freak. _Loved_ a ridiculous challenge. Liiiiitle bit morally flexible. Almost your type, now that I think about it."

The Doctor ignores that last part, and tries to let the rest of Missy's words conjure up an image, a voice, a feeling. Nothing. Stubbornly, emptily nothing. 

He doesn't know why he let himself think that hearing from Missy would make a difference. Maybe just because it let him pretend he wasn't going to ask what he's about to ask. 

"You were always better than I was at mental disciplines," he says.

"Now you're just stating the obvious."

"Maybe you could..." 

She saves him from finishing that sentence. "You want me to help you get your memories back? _Me?_ My, my, my. This _is_ a turn-up." 

"You said you wanted to be friends again." This isn't going to work. 

"Are you saying that if I help you get your memories back, we can be BFFs again? And, what, you'll come and conquer the universe with me? Do you think I'm an _idiot_?" She tilts her head thoughtfully. "And you're willing to let me go rummaging through the inside of your brain, putting my grubby little hands wherever I like? Are _you_ an idiot, suddenly? More of one than you used to be, I mean."

"Probably," he says. Part of him is already moving on, planning his escape, considering how to bring Missy's operations on this planet to a halt. Perhaps that power generating station he saw on the way in...

The rest of him is thinking about how much he hates himself for giving up.

"Do you know why you did it?" Missy says, her voice a little too casual. "Did anyone actually tell you?"

He lifts his shoulders in a fractional shrug. "Not really. I imagine it must have seemed like a good idea at the time."

She stands and steps towards him, uncomfortably close. He doesn't move. "You nearly destroyed everything." She touches his chin, with surprising gentleness. "Gallifrey. The universe. _Everything_. For that silly little monkey."

"I don't believe that," he says.

"Yes, you do." Yes. He does. He doesn't know why, but he does. The thought sends a stab of fear slicing through the grayness in his mind.

"Now," Missy says, trailing her fingers lingeringly across his skin as she lowers her hand, "I confess, that does make me feel an eensy bit jealous. On the other hand, I _do_ so enjoy seeing that side of you. Why do you think I brought you together with little miss Clara in the first place? Maybe if I help you recapture your memories, we can be friends again, after all." She leans in close, almost whispering in his ear. "Maybe you'll reconsider my birthday gift."

She turns her head a little, until her forehead nearly touches his. She's going to invade his mind, he thinks, and he suddenly, desperately doesn't want her to. He flinches, pushes her away.

She laughs. "Oh, you are _too_ easy! Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything. I think I like you better this way, anyway. You're so adorable when you're _broken_." She reaches out again and ruffles his hair.

He steps back. "I shouldn't have come," he says.

"Don't be silly. Of course you should have. There's nothing like a little sparring with your old friend to take your mind off your troubles, is there? And no matter what happens to them, you know that _I_ am always here for you." She lifts her face and calls out, "Guards!"

Two men – they might or might not be the same ones from before; it's hard to tell with the helmets – race into the room and, at a nod from Missy, seize the Doctor's arms.

"Take him away," she says. "Lock him up. Let me know when he escapes."

The men look at each other in confusion.

"Well, go _on_!" she says. As they drag him away, she calls after him, "Do try to enjoy yourself, Doctor!"

So he does. It isn't easy, but what else is there to do?


End file.
